


London After Midnight

by vtn



Category: Justice (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-10-24
Updated: 2008-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-17 08:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/549382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xavier and Gaspard spend the night in London.</p>
            </blockquote>





	London After Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Title is not as usual a song title but is actually an entire band's name.

Xavier is absolutely lost in space, letting his eyes blur the colored lights around him as the DJ spins dirty techno, Nancy Sinatra's voice arching over,  _bang bang my baby shot me down_  and he wants to dance but his own feet won't let him. He was never a dancer, although Gaspard gets him to dance for him by playing certain records—"Master of Puppets" at double speed gets Xavier on his back playing air guitar and laughing; "Disco Inferno" makes him try to moonwalk.   
  
Eventually the influence of Bacardi wins over and he starts moving his hips, only for them to be caught by rough hands that guide them to more fluid motion. There's an advantage to dancing in the shadows, after all.  
  
A flash of light hits them and then scatters; Erol's lips are on the back of Xavier's neck, and he whispers, his voice level, "I want to do filthy things to you." You already do filthy things to me, Xavier is thinking. With just the touch of your fingers.  
  
\---  
  
Their hair matted to their faces from the rain, they take a cab back to the hotel where Xavier and Gaspard are staying. Gaspard smokes a cigarette out the window, daring the driver to care. Xavier dozes off at a red light, staring into the sky as smoke from Gaspard's cigarette winds up into the stars above. He jerks awake as the taxi starts moving, and smiles at the reflections in Erol's dark eyes.  
  
\---  
  
Two-thirty AM is never too late for black coffee in the hotel room Xavier and Gaspard are sharing; Xavier and Erol sit on the bed while Gaspard takes the lone chair. Half an hour into coffee and quiet conversation, it rains.   
  
"I love that," Xavier says. He puts his nose to the window and watches his breath airbrush an oval around it.   
  
"What, the rain?" Erol is not far behind him.   
  
"Yes."  
  
"London," says Erol with a sigh and a smile in his voice. He slides his hand up into the curls of Xavier's hair that fall against the back of his neck, and Xavier feels the hair on his arms stand up in goosebumps. He smiles slowly.  
  
"Kiss me," he says. Erol guides Xavier's head around with his hand and presses their lips together slowly, moving his other hand to Xavier's waist. It almost feels like they are dancing. Xavier exhales into Erol's mouth before he lets Erol deepen the kiss.  
  
"Come back," Gaspard says quietly. Xavier, unsure if he's heard right, taps Erol on the shoulder. With a small whine in his throat, Erol stops kissing Xavier.  
  
"What?" he asks, looking toward Gaspard.  
  
"Come closer," Gaspard clarifies. "I can't see what you're doing."  
  
Xavier backs up, his socks catching on the rough carpet, and falls back onto the bed.  
  
"Kiss me again, you beautiful man," he says, and Erol does, leaning down to catch Xavier's lips at first and then fully straddling Xavier with his knees, providing friction between their hips. Erol seems to be taking Gaspard's voyeurism in stride, not acting nervous or playing it up for Gaspard's benefit. He kisses Xavier the way he always does, touches Xavier's forehead in his usual gentle way, with big hands capable of a strength he would never fully use on Xavier.  
  
Xavier's eyes flick over to Gaspard, who is watching the two of them intently.  
  
He slides his hands down Erol's back, over his ass and thighs, making Erol laugh and squirm slightly. Then he shifts his attention to removing Erol's T-shirt. Erol rolls onto his side so Xavier has an easier time of getting the shirt over his head. Xavier nestles into Erol's bare chest, his head against Erol's quickening heartbeat, dipping one hand downward into the hollow of Erol's stomach when Erol inhales. He rubs his fingers against the line of scratchy hair running down into Erol's jeans, which makes Erol gasp and tighten his grip on Xavier's waist.  
  
Erol moves then, unbuckling Xavier's belt and pulling it out of his belt loops.   
  
"I'll take that," says Gaspard the side of the bed. Xavier looks up. Gaspard is standing over them, blinking, taking Xavier's belt in his hands. For a split second it looks like Gaspard is going to hit him, and the thought of it somehow gets him much harder than he was before. He bites the pillow, suddenly very uncomfortable in his tight jeans.  
  
Luckily for him, Erol is undoing them, and Gaspard is taking them down, pulling them and Xavier's underwear down his legs with no regard for gentleness at all. It makes Xavier dig his fingers into Erol's back.   
  
Erol acts then, flipping Xavier over onto his back and straddling him, one hand on either side of Xavier's head. Xavier whines and Erol starts to run his tongue down Xavier's chest, circling his nipples and following his tongue with his fingers. Xavier squirms and clutches the sheets. He has to resist the temptation to just push Erol's head down.  
  
Erol takes his sweet time. When his nose is finally pushing into Xavier's pubic hair, Xavier lets out a loud "Mother _fucker_!" Then Gaspard's mouth is covering Xavier's mouth, and Erol's mouth is closing over Xavier's erection, and Xavier doesn't know when the last time he felt this aroused was. It makes his hips buck up into Erol's mouth, and the friction of his cock against the roof of Erol's mouth is it—he's already coming, and Gaspard, well aware, kisses him harder.   
  
When Xavier is finished, he's out of breath. He has to lie down on the pillow and gasp for air, tired and extremely happy.   
  
He still has to see to Erol, though. He sits up and lets Erol kiss him while he wraps his hand around Erol's dick and brings him to orgasm. When Erol comes and says, "my God," Xavier looks over and sees that Gaspard is on the edge of the bed, his jeans undone, working himself to climax with his hand. Xavier kisses Erol on the chin and then leaves him for a place in Gaspard's lap, Gaspard's hand against the side of his face, Gaspard's arm around his waist.  
  
\---  
  
As exhausted as he is, Xavier can't stay up much longer, and he falls asleep in Erol's big bed, sweat-soaked and smelling of cigarettes, Gaspard's body spooning his. It's how he knows he's loved.   
  
As Xavier is falling asleep, he looks over to the chair. Erol is looking out the window over London, in a way, Xavier's sleep-muddled mind decides, looks a bit like he's the king of it all.


End file.
